He was out of the chair now; was beside her on the deck.
“Listen!” he was huskily saying. “We'll get married right away in Shanghai. We've got to! I won't let you say no! And then we won't go back. Well stay out here. There'll be money enough, in spite of the pater. We'll study this East together. I'm going to devote all the rest of my life to it. We'll build our common interest. I shall never want anything else!”
“How do you knew that?”
“Can you doubt me?” He had both her hands now. He seemed so young, so eager. He would fight for what he greatly desired, as his father had fought before him. However crudely, boyishly, he would fight.
“No”—her own voice was, surprisingly, a little unsteady—“of course I don' doubt you. But how can you know what you're going to wan'—years from now. I don' un'erstan' that. It does seem pretty romantic to me. I don't know for myself. I coul'n' tell.”
This, or perhaps it was her failure to rise to his ecstasy, plunged him again into the depths.
“It's you or nothing now,” he repeated. “You or nothing.”
“Wha' do you mean by that?”
“I've got to have you. If I can't, I'll—oh, I guess I'll just drop quietly overboard. What's the use?”
“Do you think it's fair to talk li' that?”